“We’re all in the hands of Providence,” said Ritchie.
“’Cause I’ve a sweetheart,” said Lawlor.
“And I’ve a mother,” said another man.
“And I,” said another, “have a wife and the prettiest baby ever opened blue eyes.”
“I have neither kith nor kin,” said Wrexham, a tall young giant of a fellow. “I’m going to lay about me a bit by and by; and look here, lads, I wouldn’t mind dying for the lot of you.”
“Don’t talk thus,” said Ritchie. “Let each of us now say a bit of a prayer to himself.”
There was silence for the space of five minutes; then we all stood up, and there and then, as if by one common impulse, we shook hands all round. We felt better now. We even wished the foe would come, but we knew also that when they did commence the attack, it would be in silence and with suddenness.
A whole hour went by. No one spoke much. We just hung about the cave mouth, occasionally giving a look to see our arms were in perfect order and array. Now and then Jill went into the cave and talked with the dogs as if they were human beings. I think he did so simply to pass the time.
I was wondering in what particular way the battle would commence, and what would be the peculiar incidents connected with it, when Ritchie suddenly clutched my arm and gazed seawards. A bright light was visible far out in the offing. A bright white light. Could it be that assistance was at hand?
Presently all was dark on the sea again, except for the quivering lines of moonlight on the waters. But next minute a bright crimson glare was thrown over the water. They were burning a red light. It was a signal undoubtedly.